10 Days
by CherryKind
Summary: "The High Priest requests your presence in the dining hall. He wishes to speak with you." The guard's voice was gruff, annoyed; not wanting to be troubled with fetching the priest's little prisoners. Aphmau blinked at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, not quite sure how she should respond. "He's letting me out of this room?" [[Aphmau's Minecraft Diaries Pre-Season 2]]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I can only apologize for my lack of updating lately, I haven't had a lot of motivation to write, but I had the idea for this and just decided to run with it. The first chapter is pretty short, but it's just the starter and they'll get longer over time.

This isn't set at any particular time, but it is pre-season 2, before everyone was taken to Irene's dimension.

Again, this story will cover darker themes and the rating may go up over time! Warnings will be posted below the author's note as always. Don't continue to read if you're uncomfortable with the contents.

Hope you like!

 **Warnings:** Major injury, blood, intense violence

* * *

She woke in a flurry of confusion, sharp sounds from outside drawing her from the comforting embrace of her dreams. In her dazed state, Aphmau hopped off the bed with a stumble, her legs unsteady, and quickly dressed herself.

It was barely dawn, the first hints of morning light peaking over the treetops, but the sunlight was drowned out by the silhouette of a massive ship at the shore. The woman came to a stop at the front step, staring at the boat.

For a moment, she didn't recognize it, but then she saw the symbol on the side. _Oh no-_

Horror-stricken, she broke into a bound down the steps, drawing her sword from her belt. The sounds of battle were getting louder as she drew closer to the town.

* * *

There was an overwhelming amount of O'khasis guards. They were everywhere. Ducking behind a tree, Aphmau realized she couldn't see any of Phoenix Drop's guards anywhere; the O'khasis guards seemed to have settled and were now prowling the village, looking for _something._

She knew she couldn't take them all alone. She was smart enough not to try.

Backing away slowly, she drew in an unsteady breath clutching her sword to her chest. Then her back hit something hard and she let out an undignified yelp, falling forward. The sword tumbled out of her grip, coming to stop a few feet away from her.

She rolled onto her side and looked up at just who she had bumped into, terror filling every corner of her mind when realization hit.

"Lord Aphmau, I thought you were more careful than this," a voice came from behind the mask, hiding what was sure to be a confident grin. The woman dug her nails into the ground, slowly trying to put some distance between herself and the priest.

"What do you want, Zane?" she spit angrily, staggering to her feet. "Where is Garroth? Laurance, Dante-?" Stalling now, she eyed her sword that lay a good distance from her, too far away to make a run for it.

"You care more for your guards safety than your own. That's cute. But really, you should be more concerned for yourself now. Guards-" Zane raised a hand. Aphmau took that moment to dive towards her sword.

Her hands wrapped around the handle and she turned over just in time for the blade to plunge through the chest on a dark-eyed O'khasis guard. Blood began to trickle down the sword and he sputtered, an array of red flecks spraying Aphmau's armor.

She pushed the body off, dislodging the sword from his chest and pushing herself up to stand. Another guard lunged at her and she grit her teeth, bringing the sword in front of her to block his attack.

"Are you going to fight the entire O'khasis army, Lord Aphmau? One against hundreds?" Zane's mocking voice was unnaturally calm amidst the sound of swords clashing.

"I won't submit to you!" Aphmau shouted. Her limbs ached from wielding the sword. One well-aimed swing caught the guard's neck below his helmet and blood splattered the grass as he fell.

She stared at the bodies of the O'khasis guards on the ground, stunned at what she had done, but that moment of hesitation was all Zane needed. The priest grabbed her wrist and attempted to wrench the weapon away from her.

"No-!" she cried, the determined tone to her voice melting with fear. Angling the sword toward him as his other hand came up to take it from her, the blade landed on his palm, slicing through his glove with ease.

He hissed in pain and stepped backwards, staring at his bloody hand for a second before he turned back to her, fury corrupting his face. He drew his good hand back and balled his fist up, hitting her over the head as hard as he possibly could.

The pain was instant and she wasn't able to make a sound to express it, her body falling to the ground heavily as burning white blinded her vision. When she recovered enough to open her eyes, the sky was spinning above her.

"Fight all you want, you're not stronger than me," Zane spoke venomously over her. Aphmau still felt dizzy, but before she could regain her balance enough to sit up, she felt a tiny sharp pain in her neck, then the world faded to black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warnings:** None

* * *

The first thing she noticed was that she was warm, almost uncomfortably so. As her vision cleared up enough she could make out the ceiling, she raised her head and saw that there was a blanket over her body and sunlight was spilling through the window over it.

She came to the conclusion she was on a bed, but it wasn't her own. Neither was the room which was finely decorated with a couple chairs, a dresser, and a vanity against the far wall.

Her body felt heavy and unresponsive as she drug herself up into a sitting position. Closing her eyes, she took a slow breath and tried to come to terms with what had happened. She remembered Zane, being hit, and falling down. Then there was nothing, but darkness.

The lord slowly stood up from the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress to steady herself. Her head was pounding. She took small steps across the room until she reached the vanity, staring at the objects scattered across the surface. There looked to be some jewelry and makeup, but nothing else. Nothing of her own.

Frowning silently to herself, she raised her head and looked in the mirror, horrified at the dark bruise that was now over her left eye. She raised a couple tentative fingers and touched the bruise, wincing softly at the ache that followed.

Despite everything, she was still surprised Zane had so bluntly struck her like that. Why hadn't he used his sword? She remembered seeing it in its sheath on his belt, but he had chosen to apprehend her with his hands instead.

And for what reason? Where was she?

She turned away from the vanity and went to the door, rattling the handle quietly. It was locked, as she expected, but she supposed it was at least worth a try. She sighed and let her hand fall back to her side, stopping when something soft brushed her fingers.

She looked down in confusion, only then realizing she was wearing a completely different outfit than what she remembered wearing during the fight. She now wore a cream-colored tank top and matching shorts. But who had-?

Staring at the clothing, she felt a hot blush creep over her face. Someone had changed her while she was unconscious. That alone made her feel sick, much less the idea of who it could have been.

Embarrassed and humiliated, she went and sat in one of the arm chairs, drawing her knees up to her chest. Since the door was locked, there was little more she could do than wait.

* * *

It seemed like an eternity before she heard anything in the painfully silent room. She felt like she had been sitting there for hours.

She heard faint talking, more silence, then the handle turned and the door opened slowly. Lurching out of her chair, she slammed her hands against the person's chest and tried to get around them.

"H-Hey-!" A startled voice erupted from the armor-clad guard and their arm shot out to grab Aphmau around the waist and drag her back into the room. The lord grunted in frustration, holding onto the wall for a moment before she was pried away from it and shoved back in, the door slamming.

"Don't touch me," she shouted, her anger getting the best of her. The guard turned for a moment to lock the door, then looked back to her; Aphmau could make out the gleam of eyes behind the slits of their helm, but could see nothing else.

"You can't go outside, Miss." A small voice came from the guard and Aphmau frowned at them.

"Why? Where am I? What's going on?" she demanded as she straightened herself, smoothing out her clothes.

"The High Priest forbids it. I'm sorry, m'lady," the guard bowed their head, folding their hands in front of themselves. "You're in O'Khasis, Miss." Aphmau's eyes widened and she took an unsteady step backwards.

"...Wh-What? But..." _Oh Lady Irene._ "P-Please... How long have I been here? What's happened?" she suddenly came closer, grabbing the edges of the guard's chestplate, who in turn looked shocked.

"Y-You've only been here for a day, Miss. Please, calm down. The High Priest has brought you here because...I..." The guard paused, "...I don't know. I-I can only assume he'll want to speak to you soon."

Aphmau backed away again, this time hugging herself and going to sit on the edge of the bed. "Z-Zane...No..."

"I'm sorry... I have to take my leave now; I was only sent to make sure you were awake. Something to eat will be sent up for you shortly." Turning back to the door, the guard started to leave, only to let out a surprised sound when the lord jumped up and was suddenly latched onto their arm.

"No! You have to let me out!" she begged. "Please! I have to-" She tried to squeeze past, only to be grabbed and flung to the floor with a dull thud when she hit the carpet. The guard stared in horror at what they had done before mumbling an apology and hurrying out.

After hearing the door lock, Aphmau stayed on the floor for a few minutes in silence, her eyes burning. While she was worried about how she would escape, she was more concerned about Phoenix Drop. What had Zane and his army done while she was unconscious?

Sick and tired, she slowly sat up and went to sit in the middle of the bed, peering out the window on the other side of it. The sun was setting, sinking behind the horizon and turning the sky a crisp orange.

The night wasn't something she was looking forward to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Warnings:** None

* * *

The meal she was served was better than she was expecting. She hadn't wanted to eat, but the burning hunger gnawing at her stomach was enough to tempt her. Contemplating her thoughts as she ate, she hadn't expected to be given such a fine room either. This kind of treatment wasn't at all what she would expect from Zane.

When the clock read midnight, she had given up on waiting for some explanation and gave in to her exhaustion, collapsing on the ridiculously poofy bed. The bed was more comfortable than her own back in Phoenix Drop, she thought ruefully.

She found herself in the throes of cloudy dreams as she slept. She couldn't make out distinct voices or people, but they were all around her. She could hear rain and it was cold. Then she was thrust back into the waking world when the clock on the wall chimed.

The lord's eyes snapped open to bright sunlight. Slowly, she sat up, having to access her current situation all over again in her hazy state.

She was still here, in O'khasis, in this room she had been locked in. Patting the bed with one hand, she closed her eyes and sighed.

"Finally awake, are you? It's almost noon, you know."

The voice made her yelp and she kicked the blanket involuntarily, her fists balling up in the sheet. Across the room, Zane sat on the vanity chair, turned to face the bed.

"...Y-!" Aphmau stuttered. She scrambled off the bed and pressed herself to the wall, trying to put as much distance between herself and the priest as possible. She wasn't armed; she couldn't defend herself. Zane only smiled to her.

"Calm down. There's no need to be alarmed."

"No need?! What are you doing here?! I was asleep-" The thought of Zane watching her sleep made chills run up her spine. To think he had been there for who knows how long-

"You need to eat breakfast before it gets too late. You slept for a long time." The man stood and took a step in her direction, prompting Aphmau to grab the lamp off the table and hold it defensively over her shoulder.

"Stay away from me! What do you want? Why am I here?" She repeated the questions she had asked the guard from the day before; the same questions that had been running in her mind over and over since she woke up here.

The threat of being hit with the lamp didn't seem to faze Zane as he stepped over to the bed, presenting something from behind his back. He held in his hand a mound of lilac fabric, though from this distance, Aphmau couldn't tell what it was.

"I got you a present. I'm sure you'd like to change out of those clothes so I brought you another set," he explained politely.

"These aren't even mine. Where are my clothes?" the woman demanded.

"Ah... Well, you see, on the way here, they got a big dirty. I also assumed you wouldn't want to sleep in such clothes so I took it upon myself to get you something else to wear."

If she hadn't been uncomfortable with his presence before, she definitely was now. Her hands shook a bit, but she still kept a firm grasp on the lamp base.

"You _undressed_ me?" her voice had lowered to little above a whimper, disbelief and horror tainting her tone.

"I didn't want you to have to sleep in dirty clothes. Now, I'll leave this here for you for when you feel like changing." Zane sat the set of clothes on the bed. She noticed briefly that the top was lined with lace and had a small bow at the collar.

"...You still haven't answered my question, Zane," she tried to sound more intimidating, but she only sounded frightened, "Why am I here?" The priest gave her an odd look, his curious expression causing Aphmau to become even more confused. He was so calm.

"You haven't figured it out by now? Honestly, I thought you were smarter than that," he replied dismissively. The lord wrinkled her nose at the insult. "I've brought you here to be my bride. I told you we would be married."

It took her a moment to comprehend what he had just said and for that time, she stared at him in blank confusion. Then she could only reply with, _"What?!"_

"You heard me, Aphmau." The way he said her name made her insides squirm from fear. "Put that lamp down and have a civil conversation with me." He ended the sentence with a curt smile.

Though her arms slacked so she wasn't holding the lamp over her shoulder, she didn't put it down just yet. "Tell me, what about you is civil?"

"Are you truly in a place to be making sarcastic comments at me?" he asked. The threat was subtle, but clear. She sat the lamp down on the side table where it belonged.

Slowly, she shifted to stand beside the bed, hoping that by moving out of the way of the door, it might somehow encourage him to leave. "I'm not marrying you, Zane. You're a coward for keeping me here."

The priest didn't look pleased with the response he received. "You will marry me or you'll never leave this place. You won't leave this room. Do you understand? You'll never see anyone you love again."

"..." Aphmau lapsed into silence at the statement. She didn't want to accept her fate, but she didn't want to submit to Zane either.

"Now that we're on the same page..." Zane came closer, but Aphmau forced herself not to move away from him this time. "You will do as I say while you're here. You won't do anything without my permission. If you try to escape or harm one of my guards, I'll make sure you're punished severely."

 _I'm not a dog,_ she thought in annoyance. But she couldn't hurt anyone without a weapon, even if she wanted to. She refused to reply to Zane, only staring him down from across the room. Accepting that he wouldn't get a response, the man shrugged it off.

"I'll give you 10 days," he finally said. The woman looked up, mildly confused.

"10 days for...what?"

"To accept my marriage proposal willingly."

Her eyes widened in surprise, then she glowered at the priest. "I'll never marry you," she whispered spitefully. She meant what she said, but she couldn't help, but wonder if she had a choice.

"..." Suddenly, Zane turned and went to the door. He took a key from a pocket on his vest and unlocked it, gripping the the handle as he spoke over his shoulder. "Like I said, 10 days." Then the door slammed and a gust of cool air rushed into the room.

Aphmau stared at the door for a while, then she sat on the edge of the mattress thinking. When she finally decided to stand again, her gaze found the clothes on the end of the bed. Using two fingers, she felt the silky soft fabric, frowning hard to herself. The material felt expensive. Why would he give her this?

After contemplating the idea some more, she took off her current clothes and slipped the new outfit on. The fabric felt even softer against her skin than it had to her hand.

With a heavy sigh, she went and laid back down on the bed, sinking into the covers quietly. 10 days until she was forced to marry Zane. She closed her eyes tightly, furious. She had to find a way out before then.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I've chosen to continue this story because I like the plot very much; out of all my MCD fics, this was the main one I wanted to finish. However, I will not be writing any more for MCD after this story is done.

That being said, thank you for reading and enjoy the story!

 **Warnings:** None

* * *

It was raining outside, hard by the sound of it beating against the window. Opening her eyes, it confirmed her suspicions.

Raising herself up, she realized she must have fallen asleep while lying there after her confrontation with Zane. It had been so bright outside when she laid down.

It was then the sound that had woken her from her slumber made itself known again, a knock at the door. Scrambling off the comforter and straightening her clothes, she called out, "Er- Come in."

The handle turned and in stepped a guard, dressed in silver armor with a red cross adorning the front. Not the same guard as before; she could tell by the way the man carried himself.

"The High Priest requests your presence in the dining hall. He wishes to speak with you." The guard's voice was gruff, annoyed; not wanting to be troubled with fetching the priest's little prisoners. Aphmau blinked at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, not quite sure how she should respond.

"He's letting me out of this room?"

" _I'm_ letting you out of this room." Before she could protest, the knight had taken a tight grip on her upper arm that was sure to bruise. She let out a startled sound, but she was no match for his strength as he hauled her out of the room and into the hall.

It looked like a castle. There were red rugs running down the halls, grand chandeliers hanging from the gilded ceilings, but it was painfully empty besides the guards standing directly outside her room.

Is this really how Zane chose to use his manpower? Two guards to make sure she didn't sneak out of her room?

The lord's arm was aching as she was more-or-less dragged down the hall before she finally squirmed and wrenched herself out of his grasp.

"I know how to walk!" she snapped. The guard looked angry, somehow evident even with the helm on, a hand slipping down to rest of the handle of his sheathed sword.

"Move along then."

Aphmau paused before turning around and continuing in the direction they had been heading.

She thought it was odd, how empty the place was. Cold as well. A cool draft made her hair stand on end, feeling somewhat embarrassed she was out in the open in little more than underclothes.

As they neared the dining hall, she could hear various noises and several servants skittered past her as she entered the archway, looking in. In the middle of the room was a large dining table, far too big for the only person that occupied in at the head. Zane seemed to be picking at what was on his plate before he raised his head to look at his guest.

"Ah. I'll be honest," he stated, "I'm amazed you didn't refuse to come." The smile was evident in his voice and it made her ill. Aphmau hugged herself uncomfortably, letting out a sharp gasp when the guard behind her nudged her forward.

Stepping closer to the table, Zane stood and pulled out the chair beside his own, motioning for her to sit. She could say she was surprised as he pushed it in for her before taking his seat again.

"Why did you call for me?" she questioned quietly.

"It's time for dinner. Aren't you hungry?" She lowered her gaze to the table where there was a plate of what looked like roast with some vegetables. Her stomach growled at the thought.

Well...it wasn't as if she hadn't already eaten food he had served her. If he intended to poison her, it would have kicked in long before now.

The woman hesitantly picked up a fork and began to eat, keeping her gaze averted from the priest beside her. At least, she thought, he bothered to give her good meals.

She didn't realize she had eaten so quickly until she put her fork down and looked up to see Zane wasn't nearly done with his meal. She couldn't help, but stare now, because he had his mask pulled down to eat and she could see the reason he wore it now.

Scars, none new, but there nonetheless, littering his lower face, one prominent one even slicing through his bottom lip. They were jagged and long; deep.

"Curious?"

His inquiry snapped her out of her trance, eyes wide as she peered owlishly back at him.

"I- Um." She frowned, folding her hands on her lap. "What happened to your face?" It was a rude question, one she would never normally ask someone so bluntly, but she couldn't bring herself to care about his feelings since he had been so cruel to her.

The man leaned against the edge of the table with one arm, the other holding the fork up in the air. "Not a story I care to recount at the moment, but just know it involves your dear _guard_."

"Garroth?" she asked, perking up.

"Yes. Perhaps one day I'll tell you, but not now." He reached for a chalice full of some liquid as dark as blood and brought it to his marred lips to drink from it. The smell of alcohol offended her nose.

"Aren't you supposed to resist temptations as a priest? Isn't indulging in alcohol against your oath?" She would admit, she knew little of priests, but she was always under the impression they couldn't do such things.

"Indulging in _you_ is against my oath." The deadpan glare he gave her was noticeable even with his one eye covered.

"What?" she hissed.

"I'm not supposed to take a wife. I took a vow of abstinence when I accepted this position and yet, here I am." Zane smiled to her and she felt herself bristle. "Having dinner with my fiancée."

"I'm not you're fiancée," Aphmau snapped in reply. He only chuckled and tilted the chalice back to finish off the wine within.

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes, Aphmau fidgeting nervously in her seat and looking around the room. She had been given the same beverage as Zane, but she refused to drink it. Irene knew what he would do should she get the slightest bit inebriated in his presence. She was thirsty, but not quite enough so for that.

"Tomorrow," Zane sat the chalice down on the table with a thump, "you'll be fitted for some new clothes. I have a tailor coming early to do so. I presume purple is your favorite color?"

Despite being correct in his assumption, she only scowled and didn't confirm or deny it. She wouldn't give him any pleasure in torturing her like this.

But the priest didn't seem too bothered about it. He shrugged it off and sat there for a moment before rising to his feet. "Well, I think it's time for us to part ways for the night. My guard will escort you back to your room."

Casting a glance over her shoulder at the bulky knight that stood against the wall behind her, Aphmau wished someone else, even Zane himself, would do it.

She jumped as Zane pulled her chair out, quickly standing and straightening the purple underclothes she wore. She stared at him for a moment, sickened by his smile as if he was expecting something.

"No ' _thank you_ '?" his expression didn't change, feigning offense in his voice, "After the lovely dinner I just treated you to? Ah, well." The lord let out a sharp huff, folding her arms as another cold draft hit her bare skin.

She didn't even have time to react to him leaning in before his lips were pressed against her bruised cheek, causing her to jerk away with a startled mix between a gasp and a cry.

Despite all his chivalry thus far, he seemed a bit annoyed with her reaction, the smile turning into a small frown just before he took the hem of his mask and pulled it back up over his face.

"Goodnight, Aphmau."

His robes flying behind him, he turned sharply and exited through another doorway than the one she had entered through. She didn't have time to contemplate what had just happened before the guard was already on her, urging her to start walking.

The guard didn't speak on their way back to the bedroom and she had no qualms with this. But the isolated feeling came rushing back like a wave once the door was locked and she was back in her confines.

The room was dark, sparing an oil lamp on the vanity. Beside it sat a bucket of soapy water and a cloth.

Oh, right. She hadn't been able to bathe since she had been brought here. Her hair was greasy, her skin oily and dirty after the battle that had transpired not 3 days ago. At least, she noted, Zane hadn't taken it upon himself to bathe her when he changed her clothes.

Nearing the bucket, the woman slowly began to take her clothes off, leaving them in a crumpled mound on the floor before she took the cloth and soaked it in the hot water.

She felt filthy, in more ways than one, especially after the kiss that had been pressed to her face against her will. Zane was foul, vile; a poor excuse for a human being. He was evil.

Staring at the cloth, she raised it to her face and raked it down her cheek where he had dared put his lips, so hard it left irritation in its wake and caused her skin to turn red.

Her eyes were burning and she sank down onto the floor, gripping the vanity with a rigid hand as she choked on a sob.

She hated him. _She hated him._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Just to clear it up, this story will not have Aphmau being involved romantically with Laurance or Aaron.

Garmau is the only romantic relationship that will be acknowledged here, minus all the twisted Zanemau. The Aphmau portrayed in this fic doesn't have feelings for anyone, but Garroth.

I won't be taking any suggestions on the pairing(s) of the story, sorry.

 **Warnings:** None besides Zane being creepy I GUESS

* * *

Warm.

 _"Aphmau."_

There was wind on her face, her hair tickling her cheek.

 _"Aphmau!"_

The voice got louder and she finally opened her eyes to blinding light, so white she immediately shut them again. Her head hurt.

She felt hands on her arm, then her face, a warm palm pressed to her cheek and this roused her fully, eyes opening wide to see who was touching her. A blonde man stared down at her, blue eyes peering at her with much concern.

Everything around him was white.

"...Garroth," she whispered quietly, eyes softening at the familiar face. The name brought a quick smile to his lips; she saw his shoulder release the tension.

"You scared me," he started with a sigh, "You wouldn't wake up." Aphmau slowly sat up, propping herself up on her elbows and quickly accessing herself in the process. She still wore the lilac colored pajamas Zane had given her.

It was so warm, almost sultry, but there was a breeze, like in the beginning of summer. As her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she could see grass and flowers. Behind Garroth stood a tall oak tree, its leaves slowly waving in the wind.

"Where are we?" she mumbled. The knight sat back on his knees, his armor clinking.

"I don't know. I woke up here like you did." He paused, biting his lip, then he moved forward and put his arms around her much smaller frame. The lord jumped a bit, hesitating before she put her arms around him as well.

"G-Garroth... Zane."

"I know," he frowned, unwilling to release her just yet. For all he had known, she might have been being tortured in O'khasis or even dead. He had no idea with Zane. "We've been looking for you."

Aphmau finally slid away from the hug, leaning back with her hands in the grass. Garroth looked weary, she noted; his eyes were dark and heavy, hair matted. He didn't look well.

"I didn't know if you were alive," she replied.

"I could say the same about you." At that, he offered a smile, a gloved hand raising up to rub the back of his neck.

The urgency of this hit her suddenly, causing a shiver to go down her back. This didn't feel like a dream; it didn't have the same floaty feeling it should have. What was this?

If she was truly communicating with Garroth, he needed to know what was happening to her.

"Garroth," she gasped, shifting so she was on her knees, "I'm in O'khasis. Z-Zane. He said I have to marry him."

"What?" Garroth hissed. He slowly rose to his feet, extending a hand to help her up.

"He's keeping me prisoner until I accept his proposal of my own accord. If I don't, he'll force me," the woman explained, wrapping her arms around herself and gripping her shoulders. Her head was pounding now, aching behind her eyes.

"I-" Her knight opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a loud clap of thunder rattling the sky. Looking up, she saw dark storm clouds moving in overhead. The wind was picking up, causing her long hair to fly around wildly.

Garroth looked back at her, a look of slight panic in his eyes and his hands in fists.

"I'll find you," he said, "I promise."

The man leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, holding a tight grip on her arm for just a moment before she didn't feel anything at all.

* * *

She woke to knocking at the door, but this time it jolted her out of a much deeper sleep, jumping at the sudden noise in her bed. Her skin felt hot under the covers and a quick glance out the window confirmed the pouring rain hadn't stopped overnight. The garden below looked nearly flooded.

There was knocking again.

With a deep groan, she sat up on the mattress, running a hand through her hair to straighten it out.

"What?" she snapped. A voice beyond the door answered a second later.

"It's time for your appointment with the tailor. Please ready yourself." She could hear the door unlocking, but no one entered. It appeared that was her cue to make herself look at least a bit presentable.

Aphmau slid off the bed and went over to the vanity, almost horrified at her own appearance. Her hair looked twice its size, tangled and not parted correctly. She supposed at least she was clean. Though it wasn't a warm bath, being offered some means of cleaning herself was better than nothing.

She opened one of the drawers in the vanity, hoping to find a brush. There laid one in the middle drawer, amongst compacts of makeup and lipstick. She had never been one to wear makeup and she wasn't sure if Zane was expecting her to, but unless she was forced, she wasn't touching it. The woman opted for the silver-handled brush instead.

After a few minutes of primping herself, she fluffed her hair, fixed her clothes, and went to the door. Outside in the hall stood a guard, dressed in the same getup as the last, but their demeanor was different. They glanced at her, then offered their arm.

"A tailor?" she asked. At least one had the slightest shred of decency. She took their arm carefully, but didn't get too close.

"The High Priest wants to have clothes made for you," they commented. Aphmau raised an eyebrow at the knight's voice, frowning.

"Was it you that came to me the first day?"

There was a small stutter in their step, confused and surprised by the accusation, then they resumed, walking down the hall beside her.

"Yes, it was."

This knight had seemed much nicer than the rest of the guards, who seemed either rude or passive; this one actually had manners. Aphmau pursed her lips, but didn't say anything else as she was led.

She was taken to a brightly lit room that looked like a fancy parlor, inside a woman with a measuring tape and ridiculous heaps of purple fabric strewn across all the available furniture, minus a tiny stool before her and a sofa. And on the sofa sat the priest himself.

Aphmau stared, standing in the doorway before she was urged to enter by the nameless knight, who quickly excused themselves once she was safely in the room.

"What is this?" she asked softly. Zane was slouched on the couch in a very informal fashion, sipping something from a glass with the most nonchalant expression she could imagine.

"Did you forget so soon? You need new clothes and I can't simply guess your size."

"No," her brow furrowed, her fists clenched at her sides, "Why are you here? These are normally done in private."

Being fitted for clothing was going to be annoying enough; she didn't need the prying eyes of the evil priest on her during it. But the man seemed all too content to stay right where he was.

"There's nothing I'll see today that I won't see later on, so it doesn't matter." He smiled quickly before tilting the glass and swallowing the rest of its contents.

Her expression changed to that of disgust, but her thoughts were quickly derailed when the woman began motioning for her to come over.

"I'm not _undressing_ with him here," she growled, taking a step back to the surely locked door.

She would rather be doing anything other than standing in this room being told to undress in front of Zane, even if it meant sitting through that terrible dinner with him again. Even if it meant him kissing her face again.

The tailor looked impatient, casting a glance to Zane as if silently asking him to deal with the fussy client. The visible blue eye looked annoyed and coupled with the tight frown on his scarred face made her feel a bit intimidated.

Zane was scary, that she knew, but standing up to him was frightening in its own right. She didn't have a village and guards to back her up this time and thus would stand no chance. Her headache was starting to come back.

He nodded his head at her, as if to say ' _I'm waiting_ '.

A moment of hesitation later, she raised trembling hands up to slip her top off as slowly as she could. Next came the matching shorts, dropping them in a pile on the floor. She felt exposed and humiliated standing there in her underclothes, her face hot and tears brimming her eyes as she inhaled slowly and walked over to the tailor.

She was told to stand on the stool while a measuring tape was wrapped around her waist and arms and she couldn't help, but feel like she was on display for the priest. Was he enjoying this view? Or was it just getting enjoyment out of terrorizing her and making her uncomfortable?

Aphmau wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. She might just be ill if it was the former.

"So, Lady Aphmau," Zane started. The lord cringed at the sound of her own name rolling off his tongue. "Have you thought anymore about my proposal?"

The tape was pulled tight around her abdomen and she wobbled a bit, finally averting her gaze from Zane's.

"I won't marry you," she said calmly, though a bit under her breath. The man didn't look too troubled by her statement, shrugging and standing up to go examine some of the assorted fabrics laid out.

There was a few minutes of wonderful silence and Aphmau almost found herself relaxing as the tailor pinned fabrics around her, but it was quickly broken when Zane walked over and held some lacy fabric to her chest, causing her to instinctively lean away.

"What do you think about this for your dress?" he asked, as if he actually valued her opinion on the material. She scoffed and in an act of defiance, took his hand and pushed it away.

That seemed to be the moment he snapped. He paused, almost in disbelief, before he drew his hand back and slapped her. The force of the blow caused her to stumble and she fell off the stool, startling the tailor, and landed on the carpet with a loud thud.

 _He hit her?_

Her face was burning and the tears came back suddenly, spilling down her hot face, a strangled sob caught in her throat.

"What did I tell you?" the snarl in the priest's voice was deep and she could feel his presence looming over her, "You'll listen to me as long as you're here. You don't _get_ to defy me."

She stayed there, too stunned and too frightened to do anything or even look at him. She would have loved to thrust her sword right through him then and there, but without backup, she stood no chance. She would have to deal with it, even if it meant enduring _this._

Garroth was coming for her.

"Get up."

She slowly rose to her feet, realizing her whole body was shaking just the slightest bit, and got back up onto the stool.

The humiliating process dragged on for a while longer, but eventually the tailor had enough measurements and choices of fabric to work with, all of which chosen by Zane. He didn't direct another word to her throughout, not looking at her.

When the tailor said she could step down, she practically ran to get her clothes, pulling them on as quickly as possible. Zane was standing beside the sofa, glowering at her lowly before he fixed his mask and straightened his robes.

"My guard will accompany you today. You can explore the castle, but not without supervision. Do you understand? Or you can expect _that_ tenfold."

She nodded.


End file.
